


Bathhouse

by Jessica_Bones_Winchester



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22178506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessica_Bones_Winchester/pseuds/Jessica_Bones_Winchester
Summary: After a rough job leaves him injured, Geralt visits a bathhouse.
Relationships: Geralt of Rivia/OFC, Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character, Geralt/OFC, Geralt/Original Female Character
Comments: 10
Kudos: 169





	1. Chapter 1

Geralt entered the bathhouse, covered in muck and blood. The women all backed away, and the mistress of the house stepped forward, covering her nose with a handkerchief.

"I'll ask you to leave, sir."

"I need a bath."

"We don't accommodate this level of… grime. You'll have to wash in the river first."

"I have injuries," he ground out, his voice rougher than usual. "I need clean water."

"I'll take him." A brunette stepped forward and extended her hand. "With your approval, mistress."

"If you're willing, Lidka, but he must use the fall first."

Lidka nodded, and reached for Geralt's hand. He withdrew.

"I'll be touching you intimately. You can't take my hand?"

Geralt grunted, but put his hand in hers and let her lead him toward an archway at the back of the room. As they approached, a roar of water got loader, until he passed under the arch and saw a waterfall. A glass ceiling and wall built around the rock face allowed the feeling of being outside, but the security of the bathhouse.

"Please step under the fall to wash off the blood. There's a gentle place there."

He followed her pointing finger to a cove in the rock. The water gently flowed over the edge, into a small pool. It poured over him, washing away large chunks of dried mud, and layers of caked, dried blood.

"You will need to remove your clothing."

Geralt glanced at her over his shoulder, then grunted as he removed his shirts. The cut on his chest was simply a scratch. The leather he wore took the brunt of the gash. His leg, on the other hand, he didn't need to see to know it was an open cut. His pants had been ripped open, and a lot of the blood there was his own. He'd fought limping into town, though the pain was severe.

He peeled the trousers from his legs, leaving him bare beneath the waterfall. Through gritted teeth, he let the water wash the wound.

"Are you ready, Witcher?"

Lidka held out a thick, but soft tunic. He wrapped himself into it without removing his eyes from hers. She held his gaze, never glancing down as some women did. Their curiosity often got the better of them. He didn't mind. He usually let them look, pretending he wasn't aware.

This one was different.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"I've heard tales of your kind. Are you ready?"

He gave a sharp nod, and followed her to a private room. The large bath was enough to accommodate four people, but they were alone.

Lidka took hold of the collar of the tunic from behind and lifted it from his shoulders.

"Step into the water, please."

Geralt lowered himself into the bath. Lidka collected several glass jars and bottles, and placed them at the side of the large sunken tub. She let her flowing covering fall to the floor and stepped in with him. He watched her over his shoulder as she poured an emerald liquid into her hands.

"Face away, please."

He looked straight ahead, and Lidka ran her fingers through his hair, firmly over his scalp.

Geralt grunted.

"Too hard?"

"No."

She lightened her touch anyway, just a bit. The scent of lavender floated softly on the air.

"What are you using?"

"A calming wash, mixed with some herbs for healing."

"Potion?"

"Purely natural."

She used a cup to rinse his hair clean before giving it another pass. This time she used a brush to make sure all traces of blood and dirt were removed, then she rinsed again. She grabbed another mixture, but Geralt didn't look.

"This," she said, "has a bit of magic. It will warm through to the muscles for soothing."

"There are natural substances that do that."

"Not this deep. It will also help to speed the healing of the injuries you mentioned."

She rubbed the balm across his broad shoulders and down the area of his back not submerged in the water. Her thumbs followed along his corded muscles, digging deeply into his flesh. Her fingers slipped over his shoulders and massaged his chest before returning to his back.

Geralt hummed deep in his throat, and rolled his neck.

"Where are your worst injuries? The ones that required clean water?"

"My thigh."

"Front or back?"

"Front."

She rinsed her hands and selected another mixture.

"Please stand and face me."

"Excuse me?"

"So I can tend to your wound."

Geralt stood, water dropped from his hulking form as he turned. He waited for her eyes to drift up and take him in, but she never looked. Her eyes stayed fixed on the work of her hands.

Her bare breasts buoyed at the surface of the water, teasing with glimpses as she moved. But he looked away, into her eyes, so focused on her task.

"You don't care to look or ask questions," Geralt asked.

"Should I?"

"Other women do."

"Would you like me to?"

She reached over for a jar and rubbed a salve into his wound. He winced and flexed his jaw.

"To look at me, or to ask me questions?"

A small smile pulled at her lips.

"Either," she said.

"I hate questions."

She looked up into his eyes. "So I should just look at you, then?"

"Do you want to?"

"Do you want me to?"

They stared at each other for a long moment. The ends of her long chestnut hair floated in the water around her.

She grabbed another bottle. "Sit, please."

Lidka rubbed the liquid between her hands as he sat down, facing her.

"Lavender again?"

"Yes. The scratch on your chest could use this."

"It's fine."

"But this will help."

She placed both hands on his chest. Her right hand gently worked the mixture onto his injury. She glanced into his eyes, and he held her gaze.

"Do _you_ not care to look at _me_?"

"I'm just returning the respect you've shown me."

"Do you respect me, Witcher?"

"Geralt."

She smiled. "Do you respect me, Geralt?"

"I do."

"Then you won't return my touch?"

Geralt tilted his head to the side as her eyes fluttered up to his.

"I didn't think this place provided those services."

"It doesn't."

Geralt stared as Lidka held his gaze. Her hands stilled on his chest.

"You really don't remember me, do you?"

Geralt's eyes flicked across her face. "No."

"Five years ago you saved my village from a wraith. You saved _me_."

Geralt stood and lifted Lidka to her feet. He traced a long scar across her stomach with his fingertips.

"I do remember. I didn't recognize you. You've… matured."

She smiled. "I've thought about you since that day. My knight."

"I'm no knight."

"You saved me. You're _my_ knight. How can I repay you?"

"I was paid to kill the monster."

"But not to save my life. You could have let the wraith take me. You could have killed it while it fed."

Geralt held her stare.

"People say you're cold. Heartless. Without emotion."

He grunted.

"They're wrong."

Lidka brushed her thumb over his jaw. The scent of lavender lingered on her hand, and Geralt sighed.

"Fuck."

He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss. Their chests collided, and Geralt slowed the kiss as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Touch me, Geralt," she whispered against his lips.

He slid his hand over her rear and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and trailed her fingers down his taut stomach. The next kiss came softer, but no less intense.

The soft tinkle of a bell caused Lidka to pull away.

"Time is almost up," she said.

"Can you leave?"

Lidka smiled. "You want to take me somewhere?"

"I just want to take you."


	2. Chapter 2

Lidka lay at Geralt's side, propped up on her elbow, tracing her finger along the scars on his torso. He waited for the usual questions. They always wanted to hear the stories now, thanks to the damned bard. Sometimes he obliged. Sometimes he simply got up and left.

Lidka, however, was silent as she explored his body, until she traced over a long scar beneath his right pec.

"This is from the wraith," she whispered.

Geralt turned his head to face her. "How did you know?"

"I remember. When it hurt you, you dropped to your knee and grabbed here. I thought you might not make it then… that we would both die."

He sighed. "Wraiths are usually easier to take down when they're alone, but that one put up a fight. Stronger. Angrier."

"I was so afraid."

"I remember you being very brave. Calm."

"I was petrified."

"You were badly hurt, if I remember."

"I was. I blacked out."

"You lasted longer than some grown men I've witnessed face a wraith."

She brushed her thumb over the scar, then trailed her fingers down his side.

"When I woke, you were gone. I wanted to thank you, but they told me you'd left as soon as it was dead."

"The townspeople like my services, but don't like when I stick around."

She stared into his eyes.

"I would have liked you to stick around."

A small smirk pulled at Geralt's lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear with the tip of his finger.

"I learned to heal because of you," she said. "They told me you'd left without anyone even looking at you, and I—" She lowered her eyes. "I never wanted anyone who risked their life for others to succumb to treatable injuries. Not if I can help it."

"You make me sound nobler than I am. I was paid to put my life at risk."

Lidka sat up, and the sheet fell around her waist. Geralt glanced down at her breasts, covered in a light sheen of sweat from their recent exertion, but looked back into her eyes.

"Are you telling me that if you had found me there with that wraith, just traveling, not paid, you would have let me die?"

He searched for anger, but there was none in her. Not her tone. Not her face. She already knew the answer to the question.

"No," he said. "I wouldn't have left you to die."

"So, you _are_ noble."

Geralt grunted, and took her hand from his chest.

"You think too much of me."

"You think too little of yourself."

Lidka moved to lay on top of him. Her legs straddled his waist, her chest against his, as she supported herself on her forearms.

"Tell me, Witcher… do you take travel companions?"

"No."

"Never?"

"Never."

"Sounds lonely."

"That's how I like it."

"Hmmm. I don't believe you." She kissed his chin and rolled her hips. "You've seemed very pleased with my companionship."

Geralt grunted and grabbed her hips.

"We're not exactly traveling."

"No? So, the riding I was doing before isn't for traveling?"

Geralt laughed deep in his chest. "If only."

She kissed his jaw from one side to the other.

"Take me with you."

"You're safe here."

"So are you, but you won't stay."

"Because I can't. You can."

"But I could be your own personal healer."

"No."

"Geralt, you could—"

He flipped her onto her back and covered her mouth with his. She whimpered and tugged at his long hair until he pulled away with a grunt.

"That's not fair," she said, breathless.

"Neither is life on the road. Especially the places I travel." Geralt trailed his lips down her neck to her breasts. "The path isn't as pleasant as this one." Lower still, until she writhed and fisted the sheets.

Her body went limp, and he kissed his way back up to her neck.

"But you could have me whenever you please," she whispered.

Geralt lifted himself to hover over her. He stared into her eyes.

"You deserve better than the life of a concubine."

The fight faded from her eyes. "Is that what you think of me?"

"No… that's not…" He rolled onto his back. "Ah, fuck." He rubbed a hand over his face. "This is why I avoid conversations. I'm horrible at them."

Lidka pulled the covers up to her chin and turned her back to him, lying on her side.

"Lidka?"

She didn't answer. She didn't move.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No," she said.

Geralt put an arm behind his head and sighed. The silence stretched on until he thought she might have fallen asleep. He reached out and touched her hip, and she recoiled. Geralt grunted, but wouldn't retreat. He pressed his body into hers, curling around her. He pulled her into his arms and held her tight.

"You're safer here," he whispered against her ear.

"Safety is overrated."

"You want to be my healer… who heals you when you're hurt?"

"It's not as if I'll be riding into battle with you, Geralt."

"Sometimes the battles come to me."

Lidka turned her head to look at him, so he loosened his grip a bit.

"Haven't you ever been willing to risk your life for something you wanted? Something you felt meant for?"

He didn't respond. He wasn't sure he could.

"Geralt…" She turned completely in his arms and ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. "When I woke after the wraith, and you were gone, I felt like something was incomplete. As if I missed something I wasn't supposed to miss." She buried her face in his neck. "When I realized it was you today at the bathhouse, I knew this was a second chance."

"For what?"

"For whatever is destined for us."

He grunted. "It's a bad idea."

"But I haven't heard the one thing from you that would make me think you really believe that."

"And what's that?"

She pulled back and looked into his eyes.

"That you don't _want_ me to go with you."

His eyes flicked across her face.

"I can't say that."

A smile pulled at her lips. "You feel it, don't you? A pull between us?"

"I don't know what it is."

"Did you think about me after the wraith? Ever?"

Geralt gave a sharp nod.

"Don't you see? I'm meant for you."

She trailed her fingers down his torso and along his member. He hissed and closed his eyes.

"It's why we fit so well," she said.

Geralt grabbed her chin and turned her head to lick and kiss at her neck.

"Take me, Geralt. Take me now, and then take me with you."

He rolled onto his back and pulled her onto him, making her cry out with the thrust.

"Who am I to fight destiny?"


	3. Chapter 3

Lidka pulled up her hood against the fog. It was always easier to conduct business with the apothecary before the market opened. That meant leaving as the sun rose.

The road was deserted save for a lone, hooded figure leaning against a fountain a mere ten paces away. She readied herself to run, or scream, when the man reached for his hood and revealed a head of white.

"Hello, Lidka."

The panic turned to hurt.

"Geralt."

She shifted her path to walk around the other side of the fountain, but he grabbed her arm as she passed.

"I need to talk to you."

"I'm busy."

"Please."

Lidka glanced up into his golden eyes. He looked tired. Sad.

"I was on my way to restock remedies."

"Would you mind some company?"

Lidka smiled, despite herself, and he followed her without a word. At the apothecary, he leaned back against the wall, next to the door, and waited for her to finish her business.

The walk back to the bathhouse felt long. They were halfway there when Lidka couldn't take it anymore.

"I thought you needed to talk to me?"

"I do."

"Then speak."

Geralt grunted. "I'm not quite sure what to say."

She sighed, and stopped to face him.

"Why are you here?"

"For you."

"For me? What about me?"

"Nothing."

"Geralt. You're not making sense."

"It's not anything _about_ you. It's you."

She started walking again, faster than before, and he followed.

"Despite our last encounter, I'm not here simply for your amusement. There are whorehouses for that."

Geralt stopped. "Come with me."

Lidka slowed to a stop, but didn't look at him. He walked up behind her, his presence overpowering. The smell of the leather he wore filled her senses.

"What?"

"Come with me."

"So you can leave me again?"

Geralt took her hand and made her turn to him.

"I'm sorry. I believed I was doing what was best for you by leaving you here."

"You've changed your mind?"

"No, I still believe you're safer here. But..."

"But, what?"

Geralt sighed. "I haven't stopped thinking about you. I want you with me."

She shook her head and looked away.

"Don't toy with me, Geralt. You left while I slept."

"Something I regret. And I don't regret many things." He brushed his thumb over her jaw and slipped his fingers around the back of her neck. "Come with me."

"I— I don't…"

"You can work as a healer. Some towns I travel to have no one with your skill. You would be of great use to them while I'm conducting my own business."

"Hunting monsters?"

He nodded. "And between work, we'll have each other."

Lidka closed her eyes. "Geralt, if you hurt me again, I swear I'll poison you."

He smiled at her. "I'd help you."

"I'm serious. If you walk away from—"

Geralt stepped into her and put an arm around her waist, and she stopped talking.

"I vow to never willingly leave you again."

He brushed the tip of his nose along hers, then caught her lips in a brief kiss.

"Willingly?"

"I can't promise that nothing will keep me from you."

"Like what?"

"Like…. death?"

She shook her head and looked down.

"Geralt…"

"It's always a possibility."

"I know."

"So, if you can live with that possibility, and the fact that I may have to leave you in towns to go hunt monsters for days on end… come with me."

"You know I want to, more than anything."

She traced the circle of his medallion, then trailed her fingers down his torso.

"I have a horse on hold for you," he said.

Lidka stared into his eyes.

"You got me a horse?"

He nodded.

"But you didn't know if I would go with you."

"I hoped."

She smiled and lowered her eyes, but Geralt lifted her face with a finger under her chin.

"I still hope."

He brushed his lips over hers, then ran his nose along her jaw to kiss the tender spot just below her ear.

"I need to inform my mistress that I'm leaving."

Geralt wrapped both arms around her waist and held her close.

"Can't we just leave?"

"This place has been good to me, Geralt. I won't just abandon them."

Geralt pulled back and brushed his thumb over her cheek.

"I'm sorry I abandoned you. Both times."

"Both?"

"After the wraith, and when I found you here."

"You didn't abandon me after the wraith. We'd barely spoken."

Geralt got them walking again, and returned his hands to his sides.

"I didn't want to leave you after the wraith. I wanted to be sure you were all right. I had… this urge to be near you, but I left. I knew something would change if I waited to see you. It faded some over time, but after we met again…."

"We truly are destined for each other."

"I don't know that I believe in destiny."

"Well, I do."

"So I've gathered." He smiled.

"I've felt the pull toward you for years. There was just nothing I could do about it."

They walked in silence until they reached the bathhouse.

"Wait outside," she said. "I will inform my mistress and collect my things."

"I travel light."

"I don't have much. Just a few small personal items."

He nodded, and brushed a finger across her brow to move a piece of hair from her eyes.

"I won't be long," she said.

"We've waited almost six years. I can wait a while longer."

Lidka smiled and rose up on her toes with a hand against his chest.

"I can't."

She pressed a kiss to his chin. Geralt grunted and lowered his head to capture her lips before she could pull away. He held her close with a firm hand splayed across the small of her back.

"I won't be long."

"I'll be waiting here."


End file.
